Dandelion
by flower-envy
Summary: Post-Mockingjay  non-epilogue
1. Chapter 1: Responsibility

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter One: Responsibility

**Warnings / Spoilers:** alcohol use / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 1,163

Hunting. The one time I ever truly felt free. Even now, with the Hunger Games destroyed, with Paylor as president, with equality in the districts, I still feel at home only in the woods. And in the space that was my childhood home, before the first Games broke me.

We don't talk about the Games anymore, unless Peeta needs to play "real or not real" to combat the hijacking. I hunt to occupy the time that would be spent mourning my sister, and the hundreds – thousands – of people who gave their lives, willingly or otherwise, in _my_ war.

And it was mine. All of it. Every person lost, no matter his/her age, was my fault, my responsibility. I might as well have shot my arrows into the heart of each victim of our war for freedom.

And I still don't feel free. I still don't feel safe. The same horrors rock my nights: the same mutts, the same explosions. It used to just be father.

The Games changed that.

And the war.

_Prim_.

When I finally look up from my seat on our rock – Gale's and mine – I realize it's nearly sunset. Peeta will worry. He always worries.

Unless he's having flashbacks.

"I'm home," I call as I enter my kitchen, but Peeta isn't there. Greasy Sae is, and she isn't pleased that I've only brought home a couple of fish from a full day's hunt.

"Thinking?" she asks as she guts the fish.

I shrug and answer with my own question: "Where's Peeta?"

"He went over to Haymitch's. I'm not quite sure why – either drying him out or restocking his alcohol supply, I expect," she answers with a laugh.

"Well, that makes sense," I reply sarcastically. I take the bowl she hands me, wild dog stew. Not her best meal, but I haven't brought a lot home recently. I shove the food into my mouth as if I haven't eaten in days – which is somewhat true, since I forgot to pack any food when I left before dawn this morning.

"What makes sense?" slurs Haymitch from the doorway. I turn to see Peeta holding him up by one arm. He's leaning against the doorpost in order to avoid falling over.

"Do you have any you-know-what around here?" Peeta asks quietly. He continues, "He's out."

Greasy Sae digs around in one of the bottom cupboards for a few moments before withdrawing a bottle of clear-ish liquid. "Here," she says, placing it on the table. Peeta helps Haymitch to his seat, barely avoiding a couple of falls, and Haymitch begins guzzling the alcohol like it's water.

"You let him have that stuff?" Hazelle asks, herding her young children into the kitchen to get a bowl of the communal stew.

"He's in withdrawal," Peeta answers patiently, watching Haymitch with compassion in his eyes.

"Yes, because I took his alcohol away from him," Hazelle explains. "I don't want him drunk around the children," she continues, motioning to Posy as she accepts her small dinner. After Hazelle looks away, Greasy Sae slips Posy a roll and winks – their little secret. I resist the urge to giggle as the girl slips the roll in her dress pocket, smiling appreciatively.

"He can't just quit cold turkey," Peeta says quietly. "You have to wean him off it."

I jump in, "There is no 'weaning' Haymitch. If he's quitting, it's gotta be cold turkey."

"No, it doesn't," Peeta defends, still quiet, still looking only at Haymitch.

I can tell he's about to have a flashback, but I continue anyway: "That's how they did it in 13."

"And if you recall, he looked like he'd just stepped out of an arena there," Peeta growls before exiting the room quickly.

I feel a tug on the bottom of my shirt and look down to see Posy pulling on my clothes, staring up at my face. "You should go after him," she suggests. I fight back the tears and leave the room, looking for Peeta.

"Go away," I hear him mutter. He's crouched in a corner, holding his knees to his chest, hands balled into fists.

"How can I help you?" I ask quietly, kneeling in front of him, ready to spring away if I need to but only willing to do so if it's necessary.

"You drugged me," Peeta says after a long pause, eyes burning – but I know he's fighting for me, like he always has. "Real or not real?"

"Real," I answer. I continue quickly, "But I had to."

He hesitates as he struggles to remain in control. "You had to . . . to save my life?"

"Real," I say simply. "I –" Before I can explain further, I'm stopped by the sudden pressure of his hands around mine.

"I . . . understand," he says slowly, staring at my hands in his. Fear courses through me as I remember his hands around my throat, but I urge myself not to pull away. "I love you. Real or not real?"

"Real," I explain. "You told me once you loved me from the first day of school."

"You love me. Real or not real?"

I consider this for a long time, looking in to his hopeful but sad blue eyes. Finally I can't keep it in any longer, and I answer quietly, "Real."

Peeta hesitates again. Although he looks happier, less likely to strike, there's still doubt behind the love in his eyes. "I killed Mitchell. Real or not real?"

"Not real," I answer quickly. "You were out of it, and you were defending yourself. You didn't know what direction you were kicking him in, and you didn't know Gale and Leeg One hadn't taken out that pod. The Capitol killed Mitchell. Not you."

"The bombing of District 12 was my fault," Peeta continues after a pause. "Real or not real?"

"Not real," I say again. "That was my fault for blowing the force field."

"But I helped?"

"Not real. We were separated. You didn't have anything to do with it; you were just working the alliance angle to keep me alive."

Peeta looks down at our hands – his are still wrapped around mine – for a long time. "I saved your life. Real or not real?"

"Real. More times than I can count."

After another pause, he asks, "Why did I hold you on the train if I knew you were faking, or thought you were faking? Or why did you ask me to if you didn't love me or know that you loved me?"

Now it's my turn to hesitate. "I have nightmares every night," I explain slowly, carefully, focusing on his hands around mine, avoiding eye contact because I know those beautiful blue eyes are watching my grey ones now. "Except when you're with me," I finish quietly after a long period of silence.

He lifts one hand to my chin, gently tilting my head up to look into his now-calm eyes, and murmurs, "Then I'll stay with you."


	2. Chapter 2: Nightmares

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Two: Nightmares

**Warnings / Spoilers:** character death, fire / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 1,070

_Yellow. Orange. Red. The girl on fire. Was this always supposed to happen?_

_The unbearable heat is nothing compared to the sight of Prim, _my_ Prim. I imagine I can hear her screams, and each of those screams takes the form of my name. "KATNISS!"_

_But she isn't the only voice calling to me through the flames. I can hear Peeta shouting for me from somewhere to my left. And it's as if the flames themselves have stolen Gale's voice, and his shout is less a plea for help and more a taunt of victory._

"_A bomb explodes. Time is allowed for people to rush to the aid of the wounded. Then a second, more powerful bomb kills them as well."_

_From the ashes rises my sister, a small bird with pure white feathers, small pink plumes at her throat and tail. The perfect phoenix. Greater than any Mockingjay._

"Katniss," Peeta whispers against my ear, lips brushing my skin. His arms are around me, and still I'm having night terrors. "Which dream? Prim?"

"Yes," I mutter slowly.

"It's all right, Katniss," he says, holding me tighter. "I've got you. You're safe."

"She isn't," I whisper as my eyes shut once again.

_Back in the Capitol. With the children and the fire and the blood and the death. _

_But something's different now. I'm standing on a side street I never entered during my stays in the Capitol. I can see the square, the fire, from here. I can even see myself, burning in the courtyard, crawling toward Prim nonetheless. I see a desperation in myself I never knew I'd had – most of that day is black rather than red in my memory. I struggle along the ground, dragging my burning body through rubble and shrapnel, fighting for my sister – it's always been for her; everything's always been for her._

_I can't stand to watch myself any longer, so I turn into the alley. Growing through a crack in the pink and grey paving stones is a single yellow dandelion. _Peeta_. I bend down, pluck the flower from its home, lift it to eye-level. And I watch as my hands and fingers sprout flames that engulf the dandelion in a flash. "Oh, Peeta. It's my fault," I whisper as I turn back to the square. The desperate me on the ground as stopped squirming forward. I watch myself writhe on the ground in agony. And I force myself not to look at Prim, in a similar situation among the other dying children._

_I look instead for Peeta; I find him only inches from me, still crawling despite the fire. He's calling for help, calling for me to stay awake. I move into the square, stand before my own dying form, and his. "Don't leave me," he's whispering. His as-yet untouched hand grips my fiery one as he continues, "Stay here with me."_

_I hear the flame-engulfed version of myself breathe the word "Always" before she loses consciousness._

_Peeta's crying, but his tears evaporate from the heat of the flames. "Please!" he calls again. Finally, a surviving 13 medic runs to his aid, but he gasps, "Katniss first."_

The first thing I see when I open my eyes are his eyes. "Another nightmare? You were screaming."

"I'm sorry," I answer quietly. "I kept you up all night, didn't I?"

"It'll be my turn to keep you awake some other time," he replies, smiling even though we both know it's true. "What was it this time?"

I shrug, "Just fire again." And then, surprising both Peeta and myself, I lean in to kiss him. And, perhaps more surprising to both of us, he kisses back.

I think I had forgotten what his lips felt like in all of the pain and loss. At the same time, everything feels different since the fire. It's not like the kiss on the beach in our second Games – I don't feel the hunger I felt then – but it's better than most of our other kisses. Probably because this time I know I mean it.

After I pull away, he asks with a laugh, "What was that for?"

"Saving me again," I answer simply before heading downstairs.

"Good morning, dear," Greasy Sae greets from the stove. "Sleep well?"

"As always," I shrug. "Got any breakfast? I'm starving."

"How about fish?" she asks, passing me the serving platter to place on the table. "Hazelle and the kids are on the way," she explains when I give her an inquisitive look. As I put the tray down, she adds with a laugh, "And I assume you woke Peeta crawling out of bed."

I consider saying something rude at this point, but decide against it. "And Haymitch?" I ask instead.

"I'd be surprised to see his shining face this morning," Sae answers.

"Why's that?" Peeta asks as he enters the kitchen. I watch his arms as he snags the cups from the cupboard and begins pouring water for everyone. And then I decide I should look at something else – one type of hunger is enough for me right now – so I begin laying out the plates and napkins for the children.

"Hazelle's insistent on drying him out," Greasy Sae explains. "She won't have the children around alcohol, so if he wants her to continue cleaning his home he has to quit."

"And that's the motivation for getting sober?" I ask incredulously.

"Honestly," Peeta says quietly, "I think he fancies her."

"Haymitch and Hazelle?" I respond loudly, and I clap a hand over my mouth as Hazelle and the kids march into the room.

Peeta chuckles as he places the glasses of water before each plate. He pulls the chair before him out for Posy and motions for her to take it. She curtseys awkwardly, grinning from ear to ear, and allows him to push her chair in for her.

And now I _know_ I need to get out of the house today. "Are you all right?" Greasy Sae asks me. I must be red as a beet, and very clearly staring at Peeta, because everyone else in the room keeps looking back and forth between us.

I run from the house, snagging my father's jacket and my pack on the way out the door. I can hear him calling me from inside the house, but there's something going on inside me, and I can't face him until I know what it is.


	3. Chapter 3: Feast

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Three: Feast

**Warnings / Spoilers:** a little alcohol / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 1,161

After several hours of silent contemplation in my usual place of solace, I hear the snapping of twigs from behind me. Although not entirely focused on hunting, I whirl around, bow in hand, prepared to fire.

"Please don't shoot me," Posy cowers, having dropped to the forest floor as fast as she could. Gale taught her well.

"What are you doing out here, Posy?" I ask seriously. "You could get hurt."

"Thought I'd bring you some food," she answers, reaching out to me, roll in one hand and cheese in the other. "And I thought maybe you'd wanna talk."

I accept the roll and cheese gratefully, since I ran from the house before breakfast. "What would I be talking about?" I ask as I rip into the crust of bread, motioning for Posy to take a seat on the rock.

As she sits beside me, she offers cautiously, "Peeta?" I can feel myself blushing, but I try not to draw attention to it. I eat in silence. "I mean," she continues, "we all saw you this morning."

"Yeah?" I shrug, mouth full of bread.

"What was that?" she asks bluntly.

I stop eating and stare into the woods. After a long pause, I answer, "Honestly, I have no idea." And after what feels like ages of silence, we both start giggling like I've told the greatest, funniest secret in the history of Panem. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like a kid again, like a girl with feelings and thoughts and friends. And I realize that I can't even remember the last time I felt like a _girl_.

"Do you love him?" she asks once she's regained her breath.

I look at her for a while, considering the implications of her question. Finally I say simply, "Yes."

"Does he know?" she continues.

"Yes."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes."

"So why're you both being so awkward?"

"I wish I knew, Posy."

"But –" Just then, I hear something in the woods, and I raise my hand to silence her, loading my bow once again. I stand, leap to the ground silently, as if I belong here, and move forward into the trees. It's a deer, scavenging through the leaf-covered floor for the last of the fall's berries. And I bring it down with a single shot.

I motion for Posy to come over to me. I point at the dead animal and whisper, "Where there's one, at this time of year, there's usually another. Could you run back to the house – quietly – and bring Peeta back to help me carry them?" She nods and runs off, breaking every twig in sight for a mile.

Peeta arrives half an hour later. "Posy said you shot something," he whispers. "Need help?"

"I can't carry it by myself," I explain quietly.

"She gave the impression that it was a whole herd," he laughs under his breath.

"I did say there'd probably be another," I tell him. "But if there was, she scared it off tramping through the woods."

Peeta helps me load the deer into my game bag, and we each take an end and head back to the house. Greasy Sae looks pleased when we sling the bag onto the counter. "Dinner's in three hours," she announces, and everyone smiles thankfully at me.

"I'm gonna check on Haymitch," I say, trying to escape the congratulations.

"Hazelle's with him," Sae answers. "He's in the guest room upstairs, though, if you really want to see him. He isn't doing great."

Peeta grabs the liquor from the cabinet before heading up ahead of me. "Thanks," I tell her, and I wink at Posy conspiratorially.

"Please, Hazelle, this isn't the way to do it," I hear Peeta pleading from the doorway.

"I've raised my children in a good environment all their lives, and I won't have him disturbing that."

"And he wants to get sober," he responds. "He wouldn't be doing this otherwise. But there are easier ways to go about it."

"_Weaning_?" she asks disbelievingly.

"Yes," I answer as I enter the room.

"Changed your mind," Peeta says rather than asks.

"But I'm not necessarily agreeing with you, either," I continue. "If he really wants to get sober, he should do it how he wants. Leave it up to him."

After thinking for a while, Hazelle nods. "What'll it be, Haymitch?" Peeta asks.

Haymitch reaches for the bottle in Peeta's hand, and he takes a long swig before placing the cap back on and slipping it below his pillow. "That should get me through dinner," he says groggily.

Peeta offers him his arm as he tries to rise from the bed, but Haymitch has always been stubborn. He rejects the help, insistent that he can do it on his own. And as soon as he's standing on his two (shaky) legs, he stumbles right into Hazelle. "Sorry," he mutters, doing his best to keep her balanced before working his way to the bathroom for a hot shower. Peeta and I exchange a questioning look before he springs into action, making sure she's all right.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insists. She makes a show of straightening her apron before leaving.

"Well, that couldn't be more obvious," Peeta says, and we both laugh.

"Were we ever that awkward?" I gasp through bouts of laughter.

He gets really serious, but not in a dangerous way – I know now that I have to watch out when he suddenly switches demeanor. "This morning," he answers quietly. And I have to blush, because he's right.

"Real," I mutter at his back as he heads downstairs to help Greasy Sae. I sit down on the bed, head in my hands, his blue eyes haunting me every time I shut my grey ones.

"Are you all right?" I hear Posy ask from the hall. "You aren't crying, are you?"

"No, I'm not crying," I reply quietly, looking up at her.

"Confused?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," she says simply. "Sae said it's time to set the table."

"All ready?"

"You've been sitting up here for two hours," Posy explains slowly.

"Oh." I rise and follow her downstairs.

As always, Greasy Sae has outdone herself. The meal is excellent. And we all sit around the table, laughing and enjoying each other's company – even Haymitch – for the first time in a long time. I remember seeing Hazelle smile – at one of Haymitch's jokes – for the first time since Gale left for 2. The boys beg to come hunting with me next time I go out, and Posy joins in the chorus. I tell everyone about Posy's loud feet, and we all laugh as she blushes brightly, laughing harder than the rest of us. Peeta laughs openly, smiles widely, and doesn't flash once – which is a huge improvement. But even if I'm laughing on the outside, all I can think of is my Primrose, and how she would love to be here now.


	4. Chapter 4: My Turn

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Four: My Turn

**Warnings / Spoilers:** Peeta's a bit of a raging psycho, but nothing to really warn about / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 544

Tonight, Peeta manages to drift off to sleep before me, and as soon as he starts thrashing I know he was right about my turn to stay up all night coming. I brush back his blond curls, sing softly in his ear all the songs that I used to rock Prim back into a gentle sleep with. When none of that works, I finally decide to wake him, save him from whatever haunts his sleep.

As soon as he opens his eyes, I realize waking him was probably a mistake. The fire in his eyes means only one thing, so I leap off the bed before his hands can find my throat again. I retreat to the door, but I don't open it, don't leave, don't call for help. "Peeta," I say gently. "It's okay, Peeta. I'm not a mutt. I'm not going to hurt you."

Peeta just growls at me, feeling around the room for the best weapon.

"Peeta, what were you dreaming about?"

"None of your business, mutt," he shouts. I can hear people stirring in the hallway, and for their protection I bolt the door. Maybe not my best plan, because it traps me in the room with him during his delusional raging, but at least the others can't get hurt.

"Why don't you tell me about it, and I'll tell you if it's real or not real?" I continue, keeping the tone of my voice as soothing as possible. Prim was always much better at comforting people – and I push the thought to the back of my mind, because there are more pressing matters to deal with than mourning my sister at the moment. "Does that sound okay?"

"You'll just lie," Peeta says through gritted teeth. "You always lie. It's always been a lie."

Calmly as I can, I inch toward him. "Not real," I say quietly. "I love you." And I realize this is the first time I've said it without a script; and I mean it. "I love you, Peeta," I repeat, a little louder this time. "It's not a lie. It was never a lie. I was confused then, but I know now. I love you."

His muscles begin to relax, but the fire still burns behind his eyes.

"All you've ever done was love me," I continue, still cautiously moving toward him. "You protected me from the very beginning, determined that I survive our first Games. It was always real to you. I was thrown into it unprepared," I explain. "I was confused, and everyone kept saying 'And what about Gale?' and I couldn't answer them because I didn't know." I watch the fire slowly dying, replaced by the beautiful familiar blue. I'm standing right in front of him now, so he could strangle me again at any time, but I need to tell him the truth. "I know now. I think, deep down, I always knew. Or I knew earlier than this, at least. I love you, Peeta. Come back to me." As I say the last line, I take his hands in mine, lifting one to my face. It comes to rest on my cheek, not my throat, and it stays there.

Then it slides behind my neck and pulls my mouth to his.


	5. Chapter 5: Lullaby

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Five: Lullaby

**Warnings / Spoilers:** canon character death / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 739

_Then it slides behind my neck and pulls my mouth to his._

The hunger, like on the beach in our second Games, courses through me once again. It scares me just as much as the first time I felt it; and there's something different about the way Peeta keeps his hand behind my neck, like he doesn't want me to break away for anything.

Then we hear the scream.

It sounds so much like Rue – and like Prim – and I find myself frozen in place, my limbs weighted down and immobile.

"That's Posy," I hear Peeta mutter. I look up at him, and I see that he's just as messed up by the scream as I am. He's gritting his teeth to avoid hurting me, and his eyes are burning once again.

She screams again, and this time the first thing I wonder is why she's at my house this late at night. I glance up at Peeta once more to see he's still holding back, as hard as that is for him, and then I force myself to move down the hall toward the guest room – and the scream.

I open the door and find her crying out in her sleep. I sit down next to her on the large bed, and I brush the hair out of her face. "Posy," I whisper. "Posy, wake up."

I hear the door open again behind me; then I hear the sigh of relief that could only come from her mother. Hazelle pulls a chair around to the other side of the bed and sits next to her daughter, taking Posy's hand.

The girl stirs, and we both watch as her eyes snap open and the sweat drips from her like rain. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," I murmur softly.

"Dreamed Gale was selected for the Games instead of Peeta," she tells me. "And you couldn't save him like you did Peeta."

"Of course I would have saved him, honey. But it was just a dream."

She looks up to me, tears streaming down her cheeks, and asks, "Have you ever thought about it?"

"It's crossed my mind," I admit. "But I wouldn't have done anything differently if it'd been Gale instead of Peeta. I would've saved him if it meant I had to die in a heartbeat."

"Really?"

"Of course, Posy." I explain, "Gale is my best friend, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him."

Then she catches me off-guard with this question: "Even now?"

I consider this for a long time. And each time I open my mouth to say "yes," I find myself tongue-tied, and the image of my sister burning in front of me stops me short. My eyes sting with tears I don't want to release. Finally, being as honest as I could possibly be, I sob out, "I don't know."

"Because of Prim?" she inquires quietly.

I simply nod, unable to speak through the tears, through the sobs that rack my body, through the memory of my beautiful little sister – her ducktail shirts, the ribbons she'd tie onto the end of my braids despite my insistence that I didn't want them, the cheese she'd leave for me on reaping day, her healing hands and loving heart. emIt should've been me./em

I collapse against the pillow next to Posy, soaking the sheets with my tears. And I feel her brushing lose bits of hair from my cheeks, dabbing at my tears with her mother's handkerchief. And then, taking me completely by surprise, she begins to sing in a beautiful, bright, high voice:

_Deep in the meadow,_

_under the willow_

_A bed of grass,_

_a soft green pillow_

Part of me wants to beg her to stop singing, but it's so soothing, and I can feel my eyes closing slowly as I listen. More tears, more memories. But Rue's lullaby is so sweet, so perfect, that I can't help but listen silently, sobbing into the pillow to avoid disturbing the song.

_Lay down your head,_

_and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open,_

_the sun will rise_

_Here it's safe,_

_here it's warm,_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet_

_and tomorrow brings them true_

My tears have finally stopped flowing, and the sobs aren't quite so violent anymore. I shut my eyes and concentrate only on Posy's voice.

_Here is the place where I love you._


	6. Chapter 6: Pearl

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Six: Pearl

**Warnings / Spoilers:** some more contemplating Prim, but nothing bad / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 841

I wake up alone in the guest room. The sun is glaring brightly through the windows, which are positioned on the west side of the house in this room. _So it's afternoon – likely late afternoon._

I rise stiffly from the bed and head down the hall to change. While I'm rummaging through the top drawer for a shirt, my fingers come to rest on the silver parachute from my second Games. Without thinking about it, I explore, reaching out for the silky smooth surface of the pearl. I withdraw it slowly in one hand, my shirt in the other. I slip the pearl carefully into my pocket, finish changing, and go downstairs.

"Welcome back," Peeta calls from the kitchen. Greasy Sae must be taking the afternoon off so he can bake. "You've been out cold all day."

Without thinking, I reply, "I don't think I've slept that long since we left the arena the first time."

"Yeah," he grunts, avoiding eye contact.

I know I've said something wrong, so I try to change the subject: "Is Posy okay?"

"She's watering the primrose bushes," he answers offhandedly. To avoid an altercation on his part, or another tearful breakdown on mine, I exit the house to check on her.

"How're you doing today, Posy?" I ask as I approach her.

"Better. You?"

"Nightmares didn't wake me, but that doesn't mean I didn't have them."

"Yeah, that's how mine are most of the time," she says, spraying the bushes with the garden hose slowly and precisely.

"You're too young to have to have nightmares," I respond quietly.

"That's what happened to children in Panem when Snow was in charge," she explains with a shrug, like it's simply the way of the world and there's no need to mourn over it. "Your kids won't have that problem."

I shake my head. "I don't want kids."

"Because they could wind up in the arena fighting for their lives," Posy responds. "They can't now. It's safe."

"I still don't feel safe," I answer slowly. "I probably won't ever feel safe again."

Posy ponders this for a while, and I find myself casually sniffing the flowers as if roses had never affected me. I feel her eyes on me, but I just keep touching the primroses as if it's my only way to be close to my sister anymore.

After a while, I finally look down at Posy. She smiles knowingly up at me, hiding a secret behind her eyes. "What?" I ask. In answer, she starts spraying me with the hose. We both laugh as she chases me around the yard, and I silently wish I could have played with Prim like this.

Eventually I manage to work the hose out of her grasp and shower her with water. She gasps, clearly unprepared for how cold it is. "S- s- stop," she stammers out, teeth chattering, and I point the hose toward the bushes once again. After the initial shock wears off, Posy begins laughing again. "Mother will be furious," she giggles. And I laugh with her.

I hand the hose back to her, saying, "You were always the green thumb. I'll let you finish." Then I began wringing my shirt out at the sleeves.

"You sh- should change, Catnip," she calls after me. I wonder if it was a slip of the tongue, or if I heard her wrong, or if it was simply her stutter from the cold, but I don't turn to ask – I don't need to repeat last night's episode, especially not in front of her. She's the little sister I no longer have, and I can't show her how messed up I am.

I climb the stairs inside, not speaking to Peeta still working in the kitchen, dripping water with each step. I can hear my boots leaking water as I slosh toward my bedroom.

I've just pulled a dry shit over my head when I hear someone climbing the stairs behind me. I assume it's just Posy looking for fresh clothes for herself, and sit on my bed staring at the pearl. I didn't get much of a chance to inspect it on the beach in the Games, not with my eyes anyway. I've felt every smooth inch of its surface, but I haven't looked at its milky white beauty enough yet.

"Cookie," I hear Peeta offer from the doorway. I stand immediately, slipping the pearl carefully back into my pocket. "I didn't mean to interrupt," he adds politely, turning to leave.

"Wait," I call, moving toward him. My hand brushes his arm, my touch begging him to look at me like my voice never could. He turns slowly and I look up at him. "I'm sorry," I say quietly, "about this morning."

"It's all right, Katniss," he answers kindly, eyes smiling down at me – at least they aren't burning again. Then he looks down at the plate in his hands and offers again, "Cookie?"

I look down to see that he's frosted them with the mockingjay image from my pin.


	7. Chapter 7: Always

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Seven: Always

**Warnings / Spoilers:** / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 979

"You don't honestly believe I can eat all of these by myself, do you?" Peeta continues when he sees my hesitation. He looks from my face to the plate in his hands and adds, "They're just cookies, Katniss. They won't bite – in fact, I think that's your job." He laughs, something I haven't heard enough of in the short time I've _really_ known him. The sound of his laugh brings a smile to my lips, and I turn that smile up to his as I take the platter from his hands and place it on the beside table. My fingers find the hair at the back of his neck, twirling it as I reach up to kiss him. I can feel his hands on my lower back, holding my body against his.

A cough from the hall makes my eyes fly open, and I back away from Peeta quickly when I see Posy standing in the doorway. He looks at me questioningly, apparently unaware of her presence until she mutters an apology behind him. She sneaks away down the hall, still dripping, and I can hear her stifling a giggle as she shuts the guest room door.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, staring at the floor and wringing my hands. I feel like I used to when mother would scold me as a child – something I haven't experienced in so long, I've almost forgotten what it feels like.

He approaches me slowly. "Don't be," he replies softly, taking my hands in his. "It's all right, Katniss," he continues, still speaking gently.

I'm suddenly really confused, and I don't really know what I want anymore. Or maybe I know exactly what I want, and I just don't understand it. "What's happening?" I ask quietly, looking up at him with tears in my eyes.

"Nothing you don't want," he answers, backing away now.

I hold onto his hands, refusing to let go. "Wait."

"I'm here, Katniss. Always."

I stare up at him, seeing the truth reflected in his eyes. "So am I," I whisper.

He leans down to kiss me again, but Posy's knocking on the door. "Momma is asking for Peeta," she says apologetically. After he turns to face her, she adds, "She said she needs your help with Haymitch."

"I'll be down in a minute," he replies, and Posy takes her cue to leave. "I'm sorry," he says, turning back to me.

"Don't worry about it," I answer. He kisses my cheek softly, retrieves the platter of cookies from the nightstand, and heads downstairs. I sink down onto the bed, desperately clinging to the pearl in my pocket. "What am I doing?" I say aloud to the walls.

Am I even really helping him? Am I making matters worse with the kissing and the pearl and "real or not real" and sleeping in his arms? And what am I doing to myself with all of that? I still don't know what I feel, what's going on inside me. I don't know what I'm feeling when I see him, hear his laugh, watch him sleep, feel his arms around me.

_What am I doing?_

"Are you all right?"

I look up, see him standing there holding the pearl, notice the house is dark. "What time is it?"

"It's late," he answers. "You've just been sitting here. Posy tried to get you for dinner, but you were just staring at the pearl and wouldn't snap out of it." He adds softly, "I had to take it away from you before you'd come back to me."

"I'm sorry," I answer, standing and taking the pearl from him. As I replace it in the drawer, I continue, "I was just thinking."

"Must've been important."

"…About you," I add, turning back to him.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I thought it'd be about something else," he answers quickly. "But I'm good; won't complain that you're thinking about me for hours at a time." His laugh is nervous – rather like I feel right now.

"Are you all right?" I ask.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," I say. "You just sound nervous."

The blood's rushing to his cheeks and ears now. "It's just: I used to think about you a lot – or I think I did, anyway – and I guess … I never thought … you'd think about me."

I'm so far beyond confused now, but something about what he's saying tells me he wasn't thinking about me like I had been about him this afternoon. "I mean," I respond quickly, "I was just wondering if I'm really helping you or not."

He gets even redder and turns away from me. "I'm sorry," he mutters, heading for the door. "I didn't mean…"

"No, Peeta, wait." He turns back to me, and now he's the one wringing his hands and staring at the floor. "What did you think … about me?"

"I always thought … you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen," he answers slowly. "Whenever you had to sing in school, or when you'd sing at recess, I'd pretend you were singing just for me, like it was our secret, and I would memorize every sound, every word, every movement."

I can see tears of love in his eyes, but I can also see he's fighting to find the true memories. "It's okay, Peeta," I say gently, reaching for his hands. "You can stop if you need to."

"You'd never hurt me," Peeta murmurs, tears beginning to escape the corners of his eyes. "Real or not real?" he adds, whispering now.

"Real," I answer, squeezing his hands gently.

Staring down at our hands, he continues, "You love me?"

After a short pause, I reply quietly, "Real." One hand stays on his, and I bring the other up to wipe the tears from his face. And I don't hesitate to kiss back when his lips meet mine.


	8. Chapter 8: Apologies

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Eight: Apologies

**Warnings / Spoilers:** Gale / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 856

I'm up at the crack of dawn yet again, preparing for another day of hunting. The nightmares, although I had them, weren't as vivid as they have been of late. Maybe helping Peeta is helping me too.

No one else is awake. Even Peeta managed to sleep relatively soundly, with nightmares of his own and with me thrashing away next to him. The others are all in beds in their own homes, although it seems as if Posy is sleeping in the guest room again – I make a mental note to ask Hazelle about this later on as I head downstairs. I grab an apple from the basket on the table, lift my bag to my shoulder, and head for the front door.

And then the phone rings. I rush over to it and pick it up, hoping that the noise hasn't awakened Posy or Peeta. "Hello," I whisper, trying desperately to conceal how upset I am that my phone rang at four in the morning.

"I assume I didn't wake you."

At the sound of his voice, I seriously consider hanging up and walking out the door as if the call had never been answered. But he'd call again, at a time when people were around and I wouldn't be able to avoid him, so I reply, "Still an early riser, then, Gale?"

"I thought this'd be the best time for me to be sure you answered instead of my family or Haymitch or –" he pauses.

"Peeta," I finish.

"…Yeah."

After a pause, I coax, somewhat rudely, "Well, what do you want?"

"I'm sorry, Katniss. You can't even imagine how sorry I –"

I cut him off. "You're sorry?" I shout. Then I remember there are two people sleeping upstairs and lower my voice. "You weren't there. You never thought about what they would do with the information you were giving them. You trusted her, even when I tried to tell you there was something off about her."

"No, you didn't," he answers, raising his voice in turn. "You tried to tell me you didn't want me around her – not because you were worried for my safety, or anyone else's, but because you were jealous."

"_**I**_ was jealous? You can't even say his name, Gale."

"Peeta," he taunts. "Peeta Peeta Peeta. See, I can say it."

"Grow up."

"I grew up a long time ago. You're the one who never did."

"See, Gale, now I'm confused. Did you call to _apologize_ or to cut me down?"

"Beetee and I had no idea what they were planning to do with our plans. We expected they'd be used against the Capitol. And that would've been perfect. It wasn't supposed to target kids, and it wasn't supposed to target our own people. She took our ideas and twisted them to her own end. She killed Prim, Katniss. Not me."

By now I'm shaking I'm so angry. "You've tried to feed me excuse after excuse, Gale." After a short pause, I finish, "Don't call here anymore," and hang up.

Part of me longs to run for the comfort of the woods, but the other part wants nothing more to do with anything Gale and I ever did. I collapse in a chair at the table and cry into my hands.

He had been my best friend. We'd each always known what the other was thinking. We could finish each other's sentences. When hunting, we operated as such a perfect team we were almost one being. He'd saved my life, and the lives of my mother and sister, countless times.

And then he'd killed her. Whether he knew what was planned or not, he'd created it, orchestrated it, coordinated it. He'd lost sight of the goal, entirely focused on destroying the Capitol through death and destruction.

For nearly two years, Peeta and I had been groomed for this revolution. He was its voice, and I was its face. I guess that'd make Gale its brute force.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks groggily from the doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Gale called," I answer simply.

Peeta approaches me slowly, a sad look in his eyes. He kneels down next to my chair and asks patiently, "What happened?"

By now I'm weeping, but I manage to gasp out, "We fought."

"About the bombs?" he continues simply, taking one of my hands in both of his.

I nod slowly, shaking from the sobs.

"It's all right, Katniss," he answers quietly, reaching up to wrap his arms around me. I slide slowly from my chair and kneel beside him, face buried in his shoulder. I can feel his hands rubbing my back and stroking my hair, and I can hear him whispering that everything's okay and I can cry all I want and he isn't going anywhere. I'm clinging to his shirt for dear life, as if by letting go I'd lose him forever.

None of this may be fair to Gale, because he did develop his weapons for use _against_ the Capitol, not _by_ it. But he was also too blind with rage to see that District Thirteen wasn't any better.


	9. Chapter 9: Truth

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Nine: Truth

**Warnings / Spoilers:** canon character death, more Gale – also, be aware, I jumped ahead six months / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 1,493

_It's so dark that I can barely see a couple of inches in front of me. There's a weight atop my head I don't recognize, so I reach up to find a helmet with a built-in flashlight. Switching it on, I find myself in the mines of District 12. _

_Although I am alone, I can hear voices from a chamber ahead of me. I walk cautiously toward the voices, aware that something could go wrong with any step. These mines, although there were always people in them, were far from safe conditions for occupation. People never should've been down here. Yet it was the fate of most residents of District 12 to descend into the earth every day, dig away at crumbling walls and floors and ceilings. No wonder there are so many accidents, so many casualties down here._

_Entering the next "room," I find myself facing my father. I'm screaming for him to run long before the accident, and everything's in slow motion._

"DAD!"

I'm sitting bolt upright in bed, and Peeta's up next to me now. "What's wrong, Katniss? Nightmare?"

"I haven't had that one in a long time," I explain.

"You haven't had any in a long time," he replies. And he's right. I haven't had any nightmares since the day Gale called six months ago.

It'd been a long few months, and Peeta had slipped from us several times. My wrist is still in a brace, healing from the last time he tried to kill me. But even with the fire burning in his eyes, and even with his hands around my throat, I manage to stay calm and wait for him to come to his senses and ask a "real or not real" question. Of course, this isn't always a great course of action, because he almost didn't snap out of it last time – Haymitch had to drug him to keep him from finishing me off – but I never fought back. And he would always ask why, and I'd simply tell him that I was still protecting him, because that really is what we do for each other.

He seems all right now, thankfully. It's been a week since his last slip, and there haven't been any signs of a recurrence approaching. Whenever he thought he might lose it, he would either leave the room or begin asking questions. This is the first night I've felt safe enough to sleep next to him in a couple of weeks.

"It was my father," I whisper. His arms wrap around me instantly, and we just sit there like that for a long time.

Neither of us is entirely aware of how long we've been sitting there when Posy knocks on our door. "We have a few visitors," she calls through the door.

Peeta kisses me softly before releasing me, and I rise and pull on the first shirt and pair of pants my hands find in my drawers. I can feel Peeta watching me, but I'm surprisingly okay with it – I used to get really awkward, but I guess I've gotten used to the idea that he's going to see me in my underwear every once in a while.

"I wonder who's here," he ponders aloud.

"Johanna said she'd visit sometime, but I didn't really believe her."

"She isn't the most social of people…" He pauses, thinking. "We haven't seen Delly in a while."

"Yeah, she opted not to come back to District 12," I reply. "The bombing must've been too much for her." I reach into the top drawer, searching for the pearl. When my searching fingers don't find it where they should have, I begin, "Where –"

"Are you two coming?" Hazelle shouts up the stairs.

"On our way," Peeta responds dutifully. Then, to me, he continues, "Where what?"

I shrug, "Never mind; I'll find it later. Let's go before she bites our heads off."

I follow Peeta down the stairs and into the dining room, where we find the visitors enjoying some of Greasy Sae's cooking at the table. Upon seeing them, Peeta turns to look at me, and I'm all ready retreating from the room, walking backwards into the hallway. I hear Peeta apologize as I round the corner, and before I know it he's catching my arm and turning me toward him.

"I don't want to see him," I mutter, tears threatening to escape the corners of my eyes. "Please, I don't want to see him, Peeta," I continue, begging. He pulls me to him, encircling me in his arms, and I bury my face in his shirt.

"It's okay, Katniss," he murmurs into my hair, fingers sliding gently along my back comfortingly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Gale whispers behind Peeta. I pull away from Peeta so I can argue with him, but Gale is all ready out the door, likely headed for the woods.

"Maybe you should go after him," Peeta suggests.

I look from the door back to Peeta a few times, then reach my hand out to him. "Will you come with me?" He looks at me questioningly, and I explain, "I don't trust myself not to break down. If I'm out there alone with him, I could hurt him, or I could hurt myself. I don't know what he has to say, but I'd feel safer hearing him out with you at my side." He takes my hand and we follow Gale out to our usual place of meeting at the rock.

He's sitting there, crying into his hands. In all the time I've known him, through all the things we've survived, I've never seen him actually cry. I've seen him fight back tears twice – the two times I was sent to the Games. But I've never seen tears streak down his strong face, and this alien scene takes me so by surprise that I start crying again myself. "Are you all right?" Peeta whispers down to me.

I sniffle a little, then draw myself up, square my shoulders, and reply loudly, "I'm fine."

Gale turns to face us now, and I see my best friend for the first time since the war ended. Peace hasn't agreed with him – he looks utterly exhausted, thin, worn out. I wonder if it's from whatever he's been doing in 2 or from the guilt of his actions during the war weighing down on him. "Katniss," he breathes through the tears. "I'm sorry."

"Good for you," I reply. Peeta squeezes my hand, reminding me that I should be gentler with Gale like I had been with him. Maybe he's right – maybe I've been entirely unfair to Gale. I slip my hand from Peeta's and move toward Gale slowly. "I'm sorry; that was rude," I acknowledge.

"I deserve it," he mutters, looking up at me.

I kneel down before him and take his hands in mine. "Why did you come here?" I ask as kindly as I can manage, hoping I don't sound too demanding.

"I had to see you," Gale begins. "Had to tell you in person," his voice trails off, and for a moment it's as if he's looking straight through me.

"Tell me what, Gale?" I coax gently.

He snaps back to reality, looking into my eyes. "Coin…she asked Beetee and me to design new weapons for the war. We didn't know how she was planning to use them."

"I know," I cut in.

"But that's not all," he continues. His hands squeeze mine as if what he's about to say will take me away from him forever – and, who knows, it might.

"What else is there, Gale?"

"After we made those bombs, I went to her in person to ask just how she intended to use it. I couldn't see any honorable way to work such a weapon into war, even against Snow. I made it because she ordered me to. And when I asked how she'd use it, she didn't tell me about the children…"

"What did she say?"

"…She said that Snow's execution would be a little more explosive than anyone in Panem could ever expect…" He pauses to let it sink in. "We made more than she used that day, you know? She was going to blow him up…blow you up. And she'd hit me and Peeta and Haymitch and anyone else who'd been involved in the overthrow with the second wave of bombs. She was going to wipe out the competition, kill off anyone who could speak against her…"

"…But, if you knew that, why didn't you –"

"She all ready had the bombs. There was nothing I could do," he whispers, "except be ready to get you out of there when it happened."

"You always seemed so buddy-buddy with her," I answer, confused.

"I had to make it seem like that," he explains, "to ensure that I was there for the execution. So I could save you… I swear, Katniss: she didn't tell me about the children."


	10. Chapter 10: Mine

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Ten: Mine

**Warnings / Spoilers:** nothing, really / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, Gale/Delly, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 1,063

_This must be what shock feels like_, I decide. I'm pretty sure I've felt it before – in the arena, on the hovercraft after our second Games, watching Peeta beaten on television, after the bomb (for more than one reason). But this time it feels entirely foreign to me.

Gale's burying his face in my hands, clinging to me as if I'm going to run away from him. I think I can even hear Peeta's heart beating from here. But I'm frozen: I can't breathe, can't think, can't move. I'm crippled, paralyzed, trapped.

After the Games, after the war, after the executions, I had vowed to myself that I would never allow myself to feel trapped again. But now, here I am.

_I should be dead. Why am I not dead?_

Peeta comes to his senses first. "We should get him cleaned up before he sees his family again."

I shake myself out of the confusion. My tongue feels numb, so I'm surprised when I manage to form words at all. "Hazelle will be worried," I pause. Then I add, "And Posy."

Gale's sniffling, fighting the tears for control, when Peeta continues, "And Delly…"

"…What?"

"He came here with Delly," he explains. "She's got to care about him, even if it's only a little, to overcome her fear of this place and come home."

"…Delly…" I murmur. I feel like I've been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer, and I don't even know why. _Is it because I really do love Gale, or am I just jealous that she gets to see him daily and I don't anymore? Or is it the fact that he can live without me?_ I push it from my mind and help Gale rise from the rock. "We should get you back before dinner," I say to him, helping to support his weight while he finds his legs and wipes the last of the tears from his face.

Peeta leads the way back to the house, knowing better than to offer to help Gale. They're still pretty tense, and I really hope they get over it soon – which must mean I want Gale to stick around. Which surprises me as much as it would either of them. We're still far from what we were, and we will never be that again. But whatever I've done to him, he's forgiven, and I should try to do him the same kindness, no matter how impossibly hard it will be for me.

I'll never trust him again. He'll never know what I'm thinking before I do again. We'll never operate as one inseparable unit again. But maybe, just maybe, we can inhabit the same district without tearing each other apart.

Peeta holds the door open for Gale and then catches my arm before I go in. "I just want to be sure you'll be okay in there, Katniss," he says gently.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I shrug, pushing past him. Posy is laughing and cooing in a corner of the room. The table stands between me and her, so I can't see what she's doing. I can see Delly watching her carefully from a seat at the table. She looks exhausted but happy. Hazelle is fussing over her at every turn, offering her water and food and a blanket and this and that. Haymitch, his usual self, is rolling his eyes in the doorway. Greasy Sae is hard at work at the stove, fixing enough food for her usual patrons as well as the guests.

Delly looks up when Gale and I enter. "Is everything all right?" she asks, rising when she sees the evidence of tears on Gale's face.

"I'm fine," he answers, taking the glass of water Hazelle had been offering to Delly and gulping it all down in a couple of seconds.

"Hi, Katniss," Delly waves sweetly before returning to her seat overlooking Posy.

When she hears my name, Posy jumps up and runs around the table to me. She grabs me by the hand and leads me over to the corner she'd been crouched in. "Look, Katniss," she giggles happily, pointing to the floor.

And now I know why Peeta tried to warn me.

On the floor sits a small travel basket, and, wrapped in a blanket, inside the basket lies a baby. I sit cross-legged on the floor before the bundle, and the gray-blue eyes of a small baby boy look up at me. "He's mine," I hear Gale explain quietly behind me. Slowly, he adds, "And Delly's. We call him Beetee."

Without taking my eyes off the baby, I ask in astonishment, "So, you're married?"

Delly chimes in, "…Well, not yet. He was sort of … an accident…"

"Oh," I mutter, barely listening. My heart's hammering in my ears, and my head is spinning.

"Isn't he beautiful, Katniss?" Posy asks excitedly.

"Yes," I whisper, nearly inaudibly.

Gale speaks again, but he sounds as if he's a thousand miles away, "…Katniss…"

For reasons I cannot explain, I feel threatened, like someone in this room is going to hurt me at any moment. I _need_ to get out, but I can't break my eyes away from little Beetee's. "Katniss," comes Gale's whisper, now directly behind me, and I feel the weight of his hand on my shoulder.

"Get away!" I shout, shooting to my feet and backpedaling out of the room.

I rush upstairs, desperate just to get away. The first thing I do is to search for the pearl again. When I still can't find it, and the comfort it would give me, I simply throw myself down on the bed and cry.

"Katniss?" I look up to see Peeta in the doorway. "May I come in?" Too overcome by sobs to answer, I nod, and watch him approach me slowly. He sits on the edge of the bed, places once hand on my back comfortingly, and continues quietly, "It's okay to cry." And I do.

After a while, I compose myself a little. I look up at him and ask slowly, "Do you know where my pearl went?"

He hesitates, "Actually, yes."

"…Where is it?" I ask, sitting up on the bed.

I watch him slip off the bed carefully onto a knee. Then he reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a small silver ring with a pearl inset. Quietly, he asks, "…Will you marry me?"


	11. Chapter 11: Confusion

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Eleven: Confusion

**Warnings / Spoilers:** I don't usually do Katniss/Gale, and this is probably the only chapter you'll see it in / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, Katniss/Gale, Gale/Delly, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 808

Over dinner, Delly expressed an interest in returning to District 12. She was apparently impressed with how we were all getting along here, and she probably assumed Posy would be a good influence for Beetee. She was smiling so widely, Gale could hardly say no, but everyone but Delly knew it was a bad idea.

"You're all so close to each other here. It's really lovely," she kept exclaiming. "It's the perfect place to raise a baby." At this point, she looked across the table at me and asked, "Will you be having any children?"

I hesitate. Biting my lip, I answer quietly, "…It's a little early to be thinking about that."

I can feel Peeta looking at me, and for a second it's like I'm inside his head. I can feel him fighting back the tears, and I know this wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.

It is, however, better than a no.

I find myself twirling the ring on my finger and staring down at my plate, wishing that everyone would just stop staring at me.

After a long awkward silence, and everyone goes back to eating, I burst out, "You can't live here." And they're all staring at me again. "I'm sorry, Delly. I just…I can't."

"I…I don't understand."

"If you and Gale and your baby move here to District 12, I'll have to leave," I explain, cheeks red. "I can't… I'm not ready to be around him yet. And I'm definitely not ready to watch him walk around _her_ home every day." This said, I spring from the table and run out the front door.

It's Gale, not Peeta, who comes to find me in the woods. "Go away," I warn, but he doesn't retreat.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," he whispers, drawing closer to me. "I didn't think she'd ask to stay," he continues, kneeling beside me. I recoil slightly as he reaches for my hands, but he catches them anyway.

"I don't want to see you," I mutter, shutting my eyes, rather like a child wishing for a monster to disappear. However, unlike the child's nightmare, Gale's still there when I open my eyes. And he's even closer to me than he was when I shut them. "I said go away," I repeat.

He releases my hands, and I assume he's going to do as I ask and leave me alone. But just as soon as I allowed myself to believe that, his hands have found my cheeks and pulled my lips to his.

Part of me wants to pull away from him as fast as possible. But another part, a deeper part, has missed this too much.

When he stops to breathe, I ask, "What about Delly?"

"She needed someone, so did I. Didn't really mean anything," he answered, lips colliding with mine again.

"But, Beetee," I gasp out.

"He'll always be my son, and I'll always treat him that way. But he was an accident."

Maybe I'm a home wrecker. I'm not sure. I'm also not quite sure that I care. But then the weight of the new ring on my finger reminds me. "Peeta," I say as I push Gale's face away from mine.

"So you really did pick him, huh?"

"I'm engaged, Gale," I explain, standing and walking away. Turning, I continue, "He asked, and I said yes. And it wasn't required. No one told me I had to. I wasn't protecting anyone. I _wanted_ to say yes, so I said it."

"I always thought I'd marry you," he mutters, looking down at me with a deep sort of sadness in his eyes.

"…Really?"

"I loved you long before the Games took you away –" I could hear the anger building in his voice. "Long before Mellark and Haymitch turned your feelings into a Game-winning strategy."

My hand finds his chest. "Shh, it's okay. They were protecting me. The same as you when you 'buddied up' with Coin." My touch seems to calm him a little; he nods, and the color starts to drain back out of his face. My head is spinning. I'm more confused about my feelings now than I've ever been – and I had assumed it would all be so clear when I was marrying Peeta and when I hated Gale. And it all did make more sense when Gale was out of the picture. "You can't live here, Gale," I add quietly.

"…I know."

"And you should talk to Delly if she really doesn't mean anything to you…"

"Well, she does. But I don't quite know what yet."

"I know the feeling."

As we walk back to the house, he says quietly, "I'll talk to Delly about leaving in the morning."

"…Yeah, that's probably best."

He stops me at what used to be the fence. "You're sure you want me to leave?"

"…Yes."

"Then it's settled."


	12. Chapter 12: Maybe

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Twelve: Maybe

**Warnings / Spoilers:** nada / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 686

Peeta is standing outside when we arrive at the house. Something must have happened while we were gone, because his eyes are burning again. And he'd been doing so much better recently.

"What's wrong?" I ask, reaching for his hand.

"Don't touch me," he answers, recoiling. "Go inside." When Gale shifts behind me as if to follow, Peeta adds, "Not you."

I go inside, shut the door, and draw back the curtain at the window beside it. Peeta's shaking, barely controlling his anger, his need to black out. Gale is silent, standing tall before him, as if he's facing judgment without fear. I crack the window slightly so I can hear their voices and kneel on the floor to watch through the window. I can hear the baby crying somewhere in the house, and Delly fussing over him, but I force myself to block these out and concentrate on Peeta and Gale.

"How was your trip?" Peeta asks. _I wish I knew what happened to hurt him so much, and I wish I knew how to fix it._

"My best friend was upset because of me," Gale explains in a calm, level voice. "I went to make sure she was all right."

"Really?" Peeta challenges. "That's all?"

Gale hesitates for a moment. "No, that's not all, and we both know it. But it doesn't matter now."

"Doesn't matter now? Because you got what you wanted, and now you'll move on?" Peeta's voice is rising to a shout now, and this is him in control. "Just like you're doing with Delly?"

"What I do with Delly is none of your business," Gale responds defensively. "But you should know, Katniss chose you."

This should have calmed him. But it didn't. And the next thing I hear is his fist making contact with Gale's jaw.

I'm on my feet and out the door before Gale has any time to react. "This isn't worth it, Peeta," I say as I step between the boys. "What happened happened. There's no taking it back. And I'm sorry for that. But it was just a kiss, and it won't happen again. Gale and Delly are leaving in the morning." This calms him somewhat. "I'm going to marry you," I conclude.

Gale is rubbing his reddening jaw behind me, and Peeta is standing before me panting and confused. "I'm sorry," Gale whispers for the hundredth time today, and Peeta nods to him in reply.

"Beetee was crying while I was inside," I tell Gale without turning to look at him. He takes this as his cue to leave, and heads into the house to tend to his son. "I'm sorry, too, Peeta," I continue soothingly.

"You really chose me?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yes, I really chose you," I answer, taking his bleeding hand in mine. "We should patch this up."

"I'm fine," he whispers, but he looks almost on the verge of tears.

"Does it hurt?" I ask slowly.

"No," he replies, staring down at the ground.

Fearing the answer, I ask, "Why are you so sad?"

"I was afraid I'd lose you," he answers. "I was so happy when you said yes – when it wasn't scripted for cameras and you didn't _have_ to say yes to keep us both alive, when I thought it was what you really wanted."

"It was what I really wanted," I say quietly, tilting his face upward so he could look in my eyes. "And it still is." I kiss him gently before adding, "Now will you please let me clean your hand?"

Although I can't see it yet, I can hear the smile in his voice when he says "Okay."

We enter the house hand in bloody hand, and I call to Posy to grab the first aid kit my mother had set up from under the kitchen sink.

She brings it to me happily, and as she bounces out of the room, she says, "It's been fun having a baby around here."

Peeta and I look at each other and he asks hopefully, "Someday?"

I simply reply "Maybe" before disinfecting his all ready swelling knuckles.


	13. Chapter 13: Influences

*******NOTE: I AM NOW OFFICIALLY ON HIATUS UNTIL DECEMBER – MIDTERMS AND NANOWRIMO ARE ABOUT TO EAT MY LIFE – SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE*******

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Thirteen: Influences

**Warnings / Spoilers:** none / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 699

Gale left alone the next morning. Apparently he and Delly had chatted for a long time that night, and decided it would be best if they went their separate ways. They would work out a schedule for seeing Beetee, and that would be that.

Delly tells us all about it over breakfast. She seems heartbroken, but I think she understands that Gale had needed comfort and nothing more. She's pretty lost, confused, unsure of what to do next, so I speak up, "You can have Peeta's house." Everything goes silent and everyone turns to look at me. Peeta's bandaged hand finds mine as I continue, "He never stays there anyway, and now it doesn't make much sense – with a wedding on the horizon, it probably makes more sense for him to just move in here." He's staring at me, nodding, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. I'm not sure why this announcement is such a big deal, but everyone seems to think it is.

That afternoon is spent packing things into boxes and transporting them across the way to my house. Peeta and I are in my – wait, no; our – bedroom, accepting deliveries of clothing and sheets and blankets. We manage to fight with all of my belongings until it all fits somewhat neatly. "After the weeding," Peeta says, "We need to weed through this stuff and give some of it away."

Greasy Sae works on collecting all of Peeta's baking supplies and fitting them into cupboards and cabinets and the pantry. Her granddaughter and Posy help Delly, Hazelle, and Haymitch move things back and forth. By the end of the day, everything's been moved from his house to mine, and Delly and Beetee are getting settled in their new home.

After dinner, Posy moves her things from our guest bedroom. "Where are you going?" I ask curiously.

"I'm moving in with Delly and the baby. She wants me to be her helper, for a while at least." Posy begins to descend the stairs.

"Oh, I never did ask," I continue. She turns to look at me. "Why were you living in our guest room anyway?"

"Honestly," she mutters, blushing. "I was hoping you'd like having a kid around so much that you and Peeta would decide to have a baby." I watch her continue down the stairs, pondering what she'd said. We did like having her around all the time. Peeta was great with her. Even I wasn't that bad. Maybe we could make it happen after all.

I check the guest room to be sure Prim Posy hasn't forgotten anything, and soon find myself chasing after her across the yard, her favorite doll in hand. I catch her at the door and she asks me to just bring it in, since she doesn't have any hands to spare. "There's a room upstairs and down the hall, Posy," Delly calls from the refrigerator. "You need any help?"

"Nope, Katniss and I have got it," Posy replies optimistically. "Beetee's hungry?" she half-asks, half-states as he begins crying.

"He won't be when you come back down," Delly answers.

"He really is a quiet baby most of the time," Posy whispers to me, as if trying to excuse the hungry baby's cries.

"I'm sure he is," I reply nonchalantly.

"He's a lot of fun," she continues. "He's pretty smart for a baby, too."

"I'm glad you're enjoying his company," I answer stiffly.

"You would too, if you'd play with him a little."

"Maybe I'll stay for a little while," I offer reluctantly.

Posy drops everything on the floor triumphantly and gives me a huge hug.

I stumble into our bedroom after midnight. "Where were you?" Peeta asks curiously.

"Posy roped me into playing with Beetee, and after we put him down to sleep Delly and I talked for a while."

"How'd that go?" he asks, eyes brightening with hope.

I hesitate, "…I'm not ready yet, Peeta. I still don't feel safe, and I can't justify bringing new life into a world I don't feel is safe for it."

He walks over to me and wraps me in his arms. "I understand," he mutters into my hair. "Someday?"

"Someday."


	14. Chapter 14: In Dreams

**LONG OVERDUE, I KNOW. I APOLOGIZE. BUT HERE'S A SHORT NEW CHAPTER IN "DANDELION."**

**Title: **Dandelion – Chapter Fourteen: In Dreams

**Warnings / Spoilers:** none / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta, future Haymitch/Hazelle

**Word Count:** 619

_I'm walking through the woods, my woods, and there's rain pouring down all around me. It's falling on me, but I can't feel it. I'm drenched, and my clothes cling to me, but still there's no sensation of cold or wet or weight._

_The rain stops suddenly, but the clouds remain blocking the sun from sight. The trees stretch up and up toward the heavens as they once did – as so few of them should now._

_I'm dreaming._

_Even knowing this, I'm too curious to take control of the dream, to change the course of it, so I simply continue walking as if pulled by an unseen force. As I continue walking, I realize the forest is changing somewhat – something isn't right about this place, beyond the fact that most of it was destroyed by the Capitol's bombs. _

_Something is familiar about it – something that doesn't come from home._

_The trees of my first arena._

_I try to force the dream to change, try to think of something good and beautiful and free, try to overwrite the Capitol's hold on my nightmares. But even with all of my will concentrated on altering the dream, there came nothing but the tiniest change. Before me on the path, precisely where I know the fire will begin as it did that day, blossoms a single yellow dandelion, strong and bright and tall._

_And I stand transfixed as I watch it burn._

I bolt upright on the bed, muffling the scream with my hand as quickly as I can manage it. Peeta rolls over beside me, opening his eyes slowly and blinking up at me. "Another?" he asks simply.

I nod slowly, shaking. He sits up beside me, enfolding me in his arms. "Our first arena," I explain quietly, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my fingers around his arms tightly. "The trees. The fire."

"It's all right," he interrupts softly, stroking my hair. "It's over now. You're safe."

"A dandelion," I breathe, clinging to him and forcing the tears from escaping the corners of my eyes.

"Wha –" he begins. Thinking better of it, he shakes his head a little and pulls me a little closer. "It's over now," he repeats soothingly. "It's all over now." We sit in silence for a long time – me, terrified and trembling, holding onto Peeta as if letting go would kill him _(or me)_; and Peeta, calm and compassionate as ever, running his fingers through my hair and planting a gentle kiss on my forehead every so often.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I whisper into his shoulder.

"It's all right, Katniss," he replies. "That's why I'm here."

"It is?" I murmur.

"Until I remember what the Capitol stole from me, I won't understand very much of what I feel when I'm around you," he explains quietly. "I'll probably have moments when I hate you occasionally for the rest of my life. But when I don't think that, when the Capitol's poison doesn't affect me," he lifts my face to look at his, "when it's just me and all I can think about it you, I know that deep down I love you and I would do anything for you. So long as I'm me, I'm here to help you."

He leans down and as his lips meet mine I feel, for what must be the first time in my entire life, truly safe and utterly happy.

It's probably the longest I've ever kissed a man before, and even when it ends I don't want it to.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?" he asks tenderly.

I look up at him, fear creeping back into my mind. "You won't let go?"

"Never."


	15. Chapter 15: The Next Generation

**Title:** Dandelion – Chapter Fifteen: The Next Generation

**Warnings / Spoilers:** none / THG, CF, and MJ

**Pairing(s):** Katniss/Peeta

**Word Count:** 502

**Author's Note:** final Dandelion chapter

Katniss watched silently through the living room window as Peeta and the children played in the yard. He was facing the other direction, but somehow she knew without seeing it that he was smiling.

It had been months since his last attack, and they all hoped those days were mostly behind them. He would never be the same as he was before the Capitol tracker-jackered him. He struggled every day to be the same, but sometimes he had to plaster on a fake smile and force his way through a moment, a situation, or even a day. Katniss could see it, each and every time he fought to retain his identity. When she could tell he was winning that fight, she would leave him alone, avoid triggering a second wave of the attack that he may not come back from, accept the fake smile and try to smile right along with him from a distance. When it was obvious he wasn't winning the battle for his own mind, however, she'd stay nearby, hold his hand, talk to him, sing to him, try to keep him there with her. She always knew that it could end badly, and that if he did finally snap, she wouldn't fight him – as long as she was the only target of his black-out rage, she would endure it if necessary. But when he would snap out of it, calmly, without incident, they would embrace, beaming.

Their children could recognize the signs of an attack now, too. Katniss and Peeta had made sure to explain to them as best they could what was going on with their father and how they could best help him. Katniss wanted to instruct them to keep their distance, but Peeta was confident in his ability to avoid hurting them. He asked that they stay close to him no matter how bad his state of mind – they were to touch him during an attack under **no** circumstances – and make sure he could see them. If possible, he asked that they continue to play as if nothing was wrong, hoping that seeing his children happy could snap him out of it.

Sometimes that worked.

Other times it didn't, but the children were always safe with their father. _If that ever ceased to be true…._

Katniss didn't even want to think about it.

She could see him now, through the window, and he looked like the happiest man alive. The children were laughing, rolling about on the grass, trying to pull their father down with them, tickling him when the opportunity presented itself.

Kneeling in the grass, warding off small tickling fingers, he looked up at her happily. Then he beckoned for her to come out and join them.

Katniss laughed, watching her children finally get the better of their father: they were piling on top of him on the lawn, all three laughing madly. _I'd better go rescue him again_, she thought as she rose from the chair and headed for the back door. 


End file.
